After spending some time being carried through the city, past-Tobias finally stopped in front of a building with blood red paint lining the outside.

Looking above, I found the word ‘hospital’ on a sign hanging above the building. However, the hospital’s entire aesthetic practically screamed of violence and blood.

Hospitals were supposed to be clean places of rest and recover. Seeing a hospital that had a threatening and evil atmosphere was extremely unnerving. Unless I was physically dying, there’s no way I would choose to enter such an ominous place to get healed.

Regardless of my personal willingness to enter, though, past-Tobias entered through the front door carrying me on his shoulder.

The waiting room was relatively normal, except everything was in blood-red décor.

Past-Tobias stepped up to a counter and spoke with arrogance, “Give me a doctor.”

“What are your injuries?” A female staff member spoke up with a calm and steady voice, it displayed a certain degree of confidence.

Past-Tobias snorted and gestured to me, “Not me, girlie here needs treatment.”

Glancing backward at an awkward angle, I saw the nurse turn her gaze toward me with analytical eyes. It seemed as if the nurse was acknowledging my presence for the first time.

The nurse asked, ignoring the fact that I was carried atop his shoulder, “How severely are you injured?”

“Tell her about all of your injuries. ” Past-Tobias stated, indicating I was allowed to talk.

Instead of answering, I stared back at them with an expression of disbelief.

Why is seemingly nobody bothered by the fact I’m being kidnapped? Shouldn't being carried over the shoulder be the universal sign of kidnap victim? Also, shouldn’t a hospital assess the patients wounds personally? What if the patient has a problem they don’t know about?

“I'm not so injured as to be unable to walk.” I stated, glancing between the two of them, “Put me down.”

Past-Tobias rolled his eyes, before agreeing, “Fine, but don’t go running off.”

I hummed noncommittally in response as he lowered me to the ground. Finally on the floor, I enjoyed freedom of movement once again.

“General extent of your injuries, ma’am.” The nurse inquired, seeming slightly impatience.

“Severe soul injuries resulting in general weakness and loss of muscular control. Bite wound to the right upper-arm causing numbness and general loss of feeling.” I stated, before pointing toward my past-self, “If there’s a fee for this visit, he’s paying it.”

To be honest, I don’t really expect them to be able to do anything for my soul injuries. They might be able to heal my upper-arm, though.

“Severely wounded.” The nurse checked off a box on a clipboard before glancing at past-Tobias. “Are you her guardian?”

Past-Tobias nodded in agreement and stated, “Give her the best treatment.”

Guardian.

I internally laughed. 

Yeah, right. I’m clearly an adult. He’s just a serial kidnapper.

“Signing this whilst you wait.” The nurse nodded and held out a form gestured before disappearing into another a room behind the counter when past-Tobias took it.

That’s it? He didn’t even say a single word of affirmation and you believed he was my guardian? Seriously, what about that face screams trustworthy?

Past-Tobias politely gestured toward the nearby chairs, indicating for me to take a seat.

I snorted at his polite behavior, and promptly sat on the floor in the corner.

Once I’m healed properly, I’ll definitely beat past-Tobias up. He might be more powerful than me whilst I’m severely weakened, but when I’m healed properly, I shouldn’t have trouble kicking his butt…

Ugh… No, actually, I should just leave at that point. Interacting with him any longer than possible is a bad idea. Damn, that’s annoying.

Huffing in annoyance as I realized that getting revenge was unlikely and ultimately pointless. Even if I succeeded, I’d only be harming myself.

Past-Tobias pulling up a nearby chair, sat down and asked. “So… severe soul injuries?”

“Assassination attempt resulting in short-term coma.” I coldly replied without looking at him, before gesturing toward the wristband on my arm.

An expression of understanding appeared on his face, before past-Tobias nodded.

…I probably shouldn’t have said that. Why the hell did I say that? Am I trying to erase myself from existence?

I immediately felt the strong desire to slam my head into a wooden table, repeatedly.

Do NOT reveal future information to my past-self. Although that particular tidbit of knowledge was harmless, revealing any future information was a dangerous game. Who knows what affects future knowledge might have on the past timeline if he tells Rin.

“Bite wound?” Past-Tobias gestured to my injured arm, before he began writing on the form.

Trying be nonspecific as possible, I replied with a broad statement. “A particularly annoying panther.”

I’d rather give myself a partial truth to get him to stop looking for answers. If I straight up refused to answer, he’ll just make his own guesses.

He nodded and merely turned his attention to the form. “For the form, what’s your first and last name?”

“John Doe.” I deadpanned without a second thought.

“Okay…” Past-Tobias stated with a smirk, “Toarow Paradox, it is.”

I found myself frowning.

I hadn’t expected him to actually remember the name I randomly blurted out. Normally, I don’t pay that much attention to such details. To be honest, even if he’d asked me to repeat that name, I probably wouldn’t have been able to do it.

“That…” I paused midway, unsure whether I should actually continue to speak, “That isn’t my name.”

“This is a permanent pen, so… for the duration of this hospital visit, it is.” Past-Tobias said without caring for my protest as he continued to fill out the form. “Any past medical problems or inheritable disorders?”

Furrowed my brow, I glanced toward him and realized what exactly he was trying to do.

My past-self still hasn’t given up the thought that I might be his daughter. Despite my direct denial of the ‘Paradox’ name, he was still probing for answers.

He’s dying of something right? So the least suspicious answer would be…

“No.” I snorted, before standing up from the floor.

I considered adding a statement about how my parents were perfectly healthy, but… well, I decided against it. The personality I’ve displayed so far to him isn’t one that would share unnecessary information. Adding unnecessary information would only have the opposite effect and increase his suspicion.

“Past sexual encounters?” Past-Tobias asked with a deadpanned expression.

What the... what kind of medical form is that?

“Give me that.” I snatched the medical form from his hand, and read it.

The form was relatively simple contract asking for the name of the patient and the signature of person paying for the medical treatment.

There was nothing about medical history or… the other stuff he was asking about.

I gradually stared at my past-self, as I held the already signed form in my hand.

Past-Tobias showed absolutely no shame from asking that question. Impressive… considering we both knew his questions were complete bullshit.

“Pervert.”

I knew it was hypocritical to call him that considering he’s a past version of myself, but his questions were too personal and inappropriate.

Past-Tobias showed no visible response to my allegation, instead he just silently took back the form.

Tsk… he can't actually be my past-self. I’m definitely not as perverted as he is. Who does he think he is? Asking those kind of inappropriate questions.

Finding myself getting agitated, I forced myself to calm down. Before I discovered that the nurse had returned and began to speak. “Follow me.”

Past-Tobias stood up and handed the contract over to her, whilst she plainly accepted it without another word. The nurse led us through a corridor into another, equally quiet room.

Shortly after she left, a woman wearing a doctor’s coat appeared and entered the room. She carried with her a fancy black metal spear similar to my own. She placed the spear by the door and glanced between the two of us before focusing her gaze on me.

“You are the patient?” The woman asked, checking that I was the person to be treated.

I nodded, “Doctor?”

Her head nodded in acknowledgement before she proceeded to business, “Let me see your arm injury before we discuss your other, more serious injury.”

Removing the bandage my injured arm in a careful manner, a dull pain began to emanate from said location.

The female doctor approached and looked closely at the injury that began to drip blood without adequate pressure from the bandage applying to it. “A nasty bite wound… It would’ve been healed without too much effort, but some undue physical trauma added in afterward worsen the injury.”

“Simple enough to heal.” The doctor went pulled out a piece of paper, wrote something down. “Next, I’m going to examine your soul injuries. I’ll just need to touch your stomach.”

Her cold and confident tone couldn’t help but leave me surprised. I hadn’t actually expected them to be able to do anything regarding my soul, never mind attempt healing it. The medical care in this world must be quite advanced.

The nurse lifted up the front of my shirt and exposed my stomach, before she placed her palm atop it. Closing her eyes, she began to concentrate.

Instinctively, I began building temporary soul defenses around my soul.

Even if they weren’t necessary and she wasn’t hostile, I felt more comfortable having them up and ready in case of a sudden ambush.

The female doctor removed her hand and said with in astonishment whilst appearing to be slightly embarrassed, “Your soul… is, well, to put it bluntly, it looks like someone’s threw your soul through a blender. It managed to heal, then another person came along and cut apart those partially healed pieces.”

“For normal soul injuries, I can cure almost anything... but this.” The female doctor shook her head in disbelief, “I’m surprised you are even still awake and conscious. It defies all logic.”

“Can you cure her?” Past-Tobias spoke up without waiting for me to respond.

The doctor fell silent, and pondered the question in her head. “This… I don’t know? Maybe?”

Past-Tobias’ voice sounded cold. “Maybe?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to. I just… I have no idea how her soul would react to standard healing methods. This is beyond my level of knowledge. I don’t even know what’s keeping her conscious alive.” She explained, pacing around the room, “Blindly messing around with the current equilibrium could cause her soul to fracture even further.”

I glared between the both of them in surprise, “Can you explain that in simpler terms?”

“Uh… right, okay.” The female doctor nodded, and pulled out a blank piece of paper. “Imagine this paper is your soul.”

She drew a circular line on the paper, “This circle would be your consciousness.”

Staring at the piece of paper, I nodded in understanding.

The doctor then began to tear up the paper randomly, before finally stopping when the paper was in tiny pieces. “If I picked up these torn up pieces and glued them together, they would obviously fit together very poorly. There would be glue everywhere and some parts would overlap. It would sub-optimal, but overall the circle would still be relatively complete… as would the rest of your soul.”

Nodding as I visualized a loosely glued together piece of paper with a roughly drawn circle in the middle.

“Now imagine taking that sub-optimally glued paper… and just cutting off a gigantic portion of the paper, including the majority of the circle.” The female doctor winced at the thought. “That’s effectively the situation your soul is in.”

Huh… that certainly does explain why I felt rather terrible recently.

“Nothing you can do to fix it, then?” I asked without much emotion, I’d apparently been living just fine without it. I didn’t see a reason to begin panicking now.

“Not really.” The female doctor winced, “I don’t even know how you’re speaking and moving about. You’re missing an extremely large portion of your soul.”

If I had three guesses as to who is responsible for that gigantic missing piece, I’d place all three of them are on a specific manic who stabbed me through the heart. Judging by what I learned about that shapeshifting manic, he probably has some way of stealing the victim soul while attacking or something.

“Okay… thanks, I think.” I rubbed my neck out of habit, “Could you still heal my arm?”

The doctor nodded and handed a piece of paper to me, “I’m going to utilize my ability to heal your arm and prevent any permanent damage, but… do NOT use your arm for two whole weeks.”

I nodded in agreement, whilst inwardly I criticizing her ability for being too weak.

Two whole weeks? That's around the time it would take a wound to heal normally. What's the point of having such a pointless healing ability?